Staying
by ImaginationHasNoAge
Summary: What if Sirius refused to leave Harry at the end of the third task? What if he decided to stay with Harry? One different decision is enough to change a future. AU. SiriusxHarryxRemus family fic. No slash whatsoever.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hey guys! So this is my first fic, but I hope you enjoy. :)**

**Disclaimer: Obviously, I don't own Harry Potter.**

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"_Now I have work for each of you. Fudge's attitude, though not unexpected, changes everything. Sirius, I need you to set off at once. You are to alert Remus Lupin, Arabella Figg, Mundungus Fletcher — the old crowd. Lie low at Lupin's for a while; I will contact you there."_

_(Dumbledore, GoF, pg. 713, US version)_

**Chapter 1**

Harry was about to protest, but before he could, Sirius intervened. He fixed Dumbledore with a firm look and shook his head.

"No," he said.

"I beg your pardon?" said Dumbledore, taken aback.

"You heard me. I won't be leaving Harry again," said Sirius determinedly. He faced Dumbledore calmly, but Harry could see his shoulders tense, as though preparing for a fight. "He has been through hell and back tonight, he needs me, and for once, I'll be there for him."

"Sirius, be reasonable," implored Dumbledore, taking a step forward. "You know this is important."

"_Harry_ is important as well," replied Sirius calmly, standing his ground. "And frankly, I don't see how you expect to me reach out to everyone. Other than Remus, they all think I killed Lily and James and then obliterated Peter. There are only four people in this _room_ who know the truth; how can you expect me to contact all the remaining Order members when they don't know what happened thirteen years ago?"

He fixed Dumbledore with a pointed look, reminding him of the events from last year.

"If you like, I can contact Remus and he can come here. _He_ can gather the old crowd; they all liked him well enough, and he'd be happy to do it. I'm staying here with Harry," he said, drawing up a chair for himself next to Harry's bed.

It was silent in the Hospital Wing at Sirius' pronouncement, but Harry couldn't help but smile. It was the best he had felt all night.

"Thank you," he said quietly.

Sirius shook his head and turned his head to look at him. "You don't have to thank me for doing what I'm supposed to do as your godfather," he replied softly.

Harry noticed Dumbledore did not look happy at Sirius's pronouncement, but he gave a defeated sigh. "Very well. I'm assuming you have a way of contacting Remus apart from sending an owl?"

"Of course, I do," said Sirius, disregarding the dismayed look in Dumbledore's eyes. "Remus doesn't have an owl, anyway."

Sirius rummaged around in his robe pockets and pulled out a small hand mirror. Harry quirked an eyebrow at this, but Sirius just winked at him.

"Remus," he said firmly.

Harry leaned over his shoulder and gasped when he saw Lupin's face in the mirror.

"Hello, Sirius," said Lupin mildly. "And Harry! It's nice to see you again. I'm assuming the task is over?"

"Professor? How…?" he stuttered, but Lupin just smiled at him.

"It's a two-way mirror. It's a much faster way to communicate than owls, and a lot cheaper. All you need is the incantation to enchant the mirrors," explained Lupin. "And please, call me Remus. I'm no longer your professor."

Harry nodded slowly, a little dumbstruck.

"Listen, Moony, something's happened," said Sirius quickly. "Could you Floo over? We're in the Hospital Wing."

Lupin's eyes filled with concern. "Are you all right, Harry?"

Harry swallowed thickly as the images he'd been trying to keep away from his mind washed over him. Dumbledore whispered something to Sirius that he didn't hear. He was too focused on the green light that had rushed toward Cedric, his glassy eyes and the shocked expression frozen on his face when it hit him.

"I've been better, to be honest," he said quietly after clearing his throat.

"I'll be over right away," said Lupin in a no-nonsense voice.

"The Floo password is 'Fawkes,'" said Sirius. Lupin nodded and his face disappeared from the mirror.

Harry looked curiously at Dumbledore, but he didn't explain.

He turned as the Hospital Wing fireplace burst in green flames. Harry smiled weakly when Lupin stepped out.

"I will explain everything in a moment, Remus," said Dumbledore, and he turned to Snape. "Severus, you know what I must ask you to do. If you are ready…if you are prepared…"

"I am," said Snape, paler than usual. With a nod at Dumbledore, Snape swept from the room.

"What has happened?" asked Lupin, glancing at Sirius and Harry in turn. Harry could see the worry forming on his face when he saw Sirius outside of his dog form, especially since he was transformed in front of someone who didn't know the truth about him. He shot Harry increasingly worried look when he saw him; Sirius's chair was close enough to Harry's bed that Harry was able to lean heavily against Sirius's shoulder, exhausted and haunted from the night's events.

Before anyone else could answer, Harry replied, "Voldemort's back."

Lupin's mouth dropped open. "Back? What do you mean back?"

"I mean he's back to full power. He has a body. Pettigrew helped him do it…" he shuddered and trailed off. Sirius placed a hand on his knee and squeezed it gently, and Harry welcome the silent support.

Lupin swallowed loudly. "You saw it happen?" he asked gently.

Harry nodded. "Peter…he killed Cedric. You remember him, don't you?"

Lupin paled. "Yes, of course, I do. Cedric is…dead?"

Harry nodded looking away as tears fought their way to his eyes. He struggled to keep them back. "It's my fault."

"What?" exclaimed Lupin, a look of disbelief replacing the worry on his face. "I rather doubt that!"

"As you should," said Sirius. He turned around to face Harry. "Harry, it's not your fault!"

Harry pushed away from Sirius and glared at him, who looked taken aback at Harry's sudden anger.

"Yes, it is! I told him to take the cup with me! He wanted me to take the cup, but I said no, I said we should share the victory. He wouldn't have been in that graveyard if it wasn't for me!"

"Oh Harry, dear…" said Mrs. Weasley, moving toward him, but Sirius got out of his chair and sat on the bed, stopping her from reaching him. Ignoring Mrs. Weasley's indignant look, he gently took Harry's face in his hands.

"Harry James Potter, you listen to me very carefully," he said firmly. "That boy's death is not your fault. _It isn't._ All you did is act selflessly, and that you have the ability to be so selfless after everything you've been through is an _incredible_ thing. You have a very big heart, Harry. You did _nothing_ wrong, do you hear me?"

"Sirius, it doesn't matter why I did what I did! It lead to Cedric's death!" replied Harry, voice shaking.

"Of course _why_ you did it matters!" said Sirius. Sirius dropped his hands from Harry's face and took his hands. "You are too young to realize how much it matters, but it really does. Your actions, how and why you do them, always matter, don't ever forget that.

"The only people responsible for Cedric's death are Peter and Voldemort. And don't you dare think otherwise. It won't help you, and it certainly won't help Cedric."

"Harry, I remember Cedric," said Lupin. "He would not have blamed you."

Harry didn't reply to either of them; instead he looked away, the guilt bubbling inside him unbearably.

"Harry," said Sirius, "do you blame me for your parents' deaths?"

Harry snapped his eyes back to Sirius's, shaking his head emphatically.

"I would never!" he exclaimed.

"Why ever not?"

"Because that was Pettigrew's and Voldemort's fault!"

"Is it?" replied Sirius mildly. "James and Lily asked me to be Secret Keeper, after all. Shouldn't I have accepted instead of trying to trick Voldemort? Instead of suggesting Peter?"

"But you didn't know that he was betraying you! You didn't know that he was on Voldemort's side!" insisted Harry. "Really, Sirius, I don't blame you —"

"Then why do you blame yourself for Cedric?" interrupted Sirius gently. "You did not know the cup was a Portkey. You could not have known where you would go, or that Voldemort would order Peter to kill Cedric, or that Peter would listen to him. Why do you blame yourself?"

"I —" he began, but he could not answer. Sirius had a point, he knew that, but the guilt would not go away.

"I know accepting that the blame doesn't lie with you will be difficult, but please keep in mind that _you didn't know_," said Sirius. "No one knew, and no one could have predicted what happened."

"Does the guilt ever go away?" asked Harry after a moment of silence.

"It gets easier with time," said Sirius softly. "And it helps to keep the truth in mind. And to have someone to talk to. Know that I'll always be that person for you, Harry. Day or night. I don't care what time it is; if you need to talk, find me and I'll be there."

"Thank you," said Harry. Sirius nodded.

"Take the rest of your potion and get some rest," he said, squeezing Harry's hands. "I'll be here when you wake up, I promise."

Harry nodded. "Do me a favor and just tell everyone here what happened tonight," he said, sighing. "I really don't want to repeat myself."

He downed the rest of his potion and after a few minutes, he knew nothing past the darkness that fell over him.

* * *

Sirius finished telling Harry's story and sighed. He still couldn't believe that his godson had faced all that and lived to tell the tale. He couldn't be prouder of him if he tried. Dumbledore asked Remus to follow him to his office, and after clasping Sirius shoulder, Remus followed him.

"Bloody hell," said Ron after Dumbledore left. He looked over at his godson's best friends and smiled tightly at them. Ron was pale beneath his freckles and Hermione was crying.

"You two take care of him for the rest of the year for me, yeah?" said Sirius. "Dumbledore might let me stay a few days, but he certainly won't let me stay until the end of term."

"Of-Of course," said Hermione shakily. Ron nodded.

They sat in silence for a while, and Sirius continued to watch Harry, as though he would disappear if he took his eyes away from him for even a moment. After several minutes, Molly broke the silence.

"You…you really didn't kill all those Muggles thirteen years ago? And Pettigrew?" she asked him warily.

He sighed. He should have expected it; she was, after all, Ron's mother, and he obviously did not speak to Sirius as though he was a stranger.

"No, I really didn't. And I didn't betray Lily and James. They and Harry were the only family I had; I would die before I betrayed them," he replied.

"Then what really happened that night?" she asked, still wary.

Sirius turned to look at her with a haunted expression. He sighed and began to tell her his story. He got up and started pacing after a while, and agitated, he ran his hands through his hair. He talked and talked and he didn't turn to look at her until he explained how Peter escaped.

"I was left standing there with a wand surrounded by dead Muggles, a finger, and blood. It didn't take much for the Aurors to arrest me and throw me into Azkaban. Barty Crouch declared there was enough evidence that I didn't need a trial and he left me in Azkaban to rot. Said that I could be an example to other traitors."

"An example?" asked Hermione.

"Didn't I tell you?" he said. She looked confused. "I was an Auror. Harry's dad and I were partners, and we had a really high case closure rate. Then I was declared a traitor to the Ministry and Crouch decided to use me to show other traitors what would happen to them when he caught them. Until, of course, junior was brought in and Crouch lost everything, but you already know that story."

"But how did you escape Azkaban?" asked Molly.

So he continued to talk, deciding to tell her what had happened in the Shrieking Shack last year. She wasn't happy about him breaking her son's leg, but she forgot all of that when she learned that a Death Eater had been living with her family for twelve years. He explained how Harry and Hermione had rescued him and how he'd been on the run ever since.

"You've been living in Hogsmeade?" she exclaimed, eyes wide, when he told her.

"Not at first, but Harry wrote me and said his scar had hurt. I needed to be there for him," he said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "So I came. It's as simple as that."

She nodded at that, and he figured that, as a mother, she understood.

They soon went to bed afterward, and Sirius transformed back into a dog and curled up at the foot of Harry's bed. It wasn't until early in the morning that he was awoken with a kick to his side. He yelped and jumped up, staring at Harry with concern. The boy was tossing and sweat was running down his face. It seemed the Dreamless Sleep had worn off and Harry was stuck in a nightmare. Sirius quickly transformed and cast a Silencing Charm around them.

"Harry," he said, shaking him gently. "Harry, wake up. Come on now, it's just a nightmare, wake up. You're safe, wake up."

* * *

"_Come on now, it's just a nightmare, wake up. You're safe, wake up. You're safe, Harry, you're safe."_

Harry shot up and looked wildly around, gasping for breath. He felt a warm hand on his shoulder, and he turned to the person next to him. His glasses were placed on his face and Sirius's concerned eyes swam into view. Harry relaxed slightly.

"Hey," said Sirius. "You all right?"

Harry nodded, his breathing still slightly labored. "Bad dream."

"I figured," said Sirius. "You want to get some air?"

Harry nodded, and they went to sit on the ledge next to the window, which was quickly opened. The sun wasn't up yet. He knew it was early morning as the sky had changed from black to a dark blue, but Harry could still see stars. Harry watched the stars he could still see twinkle at him, unable to believe that less than twelve hours ago, he had witnessed Voldemort's resurrection. Hell, he had contributed to it. And yet, the rest of the world slept soundly in their beds, not knowing the danger they would all be in soon.

"Did I wake you?" he asked, shaking himself from his morbid thoughts.

Sirius chuckled. "In a manner of speaking," he replied.

Harry raised an eyebrow.

"You kicked Padfoot in the side with your tossing," said Sirius, grinning slightly.

Harry's eyes widened. "Bloody hell, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to," he said hurriedly.

Sirius waved him off and smiled. "Don't trouble yourself; it's not a big deal."

"Does everyone know what happened now?" he asked after a moment.

Sirius nodded. "It took everything I had to keep Molly off of you."

Harry chuckled. "Well, thanks. I really needed the sleep."

"I told her as much," said Sirius, grinning slightly. "I assume you don't want to go to back to sleep, even though it's still early?"

Harry shook his head frantically. "But I don't want to keep you awake, so if you want to go back to sleep —"

Sirius waved him off again. "I'll sleep when I'm dead. I'd rather spend time with you. And while I've got you, tell me something about yourself."

"What?" said Harry, looking at Sirius as though he were mad.

"Tell me something about yourself," he said again, an amused smile playing on his lips. "I missed twelve years of your life, and other than you liking and being good at Defense and Quidditch, I don't know much about you."

"Well, what do you want to know?" said Harry, still slightly surprised.

"Anything. Everything. How did you, Ron, and Hermione meet?" he asked.

Harry grinned and started talking. They talked and laughed and shared stories until the sun rose. Noticing it, Harry sighed.

"How long do you have left?" he asked.

Sirius shrugged and threw him a reassuring look. "I'm hoping for a few days. But I don't know how long Dumbledore will let me stay, and I really should help with the Order."

"The Order?"

"The Order of the Phoenix," he explained. "It's a group Dumbledore formed to fight Voldemort last time. We were all in it. And before you ask, no, you can't join. It's for of age wizards and witches who have left school."

Harry grumbled. "It's _me_ Voldemort's after. I should be allowed to help fight him."

"You seem to have fought him quite a bit already," said Sirius, grimacing at what Harry had told him about his first two years.

"Not my fault he keeps going after me," said Harry bitterly. "I don't even know _why_ he came after me in the first place."

"You don't know about the prophecy?" asked Sirius, staggered.

"What prophecy?" said Harry, completely nonplussed.

Sirius's eyes widened at this, and at the same time, Dumbledore entered the infirmary. Sirius turned to glare at him.

"Albus, what is this about Harry not knowing about the prophecy?"

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**A/N: What do you think? Too much for one chapter? Not enough? Not interesting enough? What can I improve on? Let me know!**

**Credit to JKR for Dumbledore's question to Snape and his response (GoF, pg. 713, US version).**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thank you for the lovely reviews!**

**I made some changes to last chapter, but not plot-wise; that's still the same. I just changed my wording a little bit, added a bit more description, and I got rid of some parts that weren't really necessary. Thanks to Kasamira for the suggestions!**

**Two things I'd like to clarify: First, I don't know if there will be relationships in this one as I haven't decided yet. If I do choose to add them, then they will be canon. I figure JKR knows her characters better than we do, and wouldn't put our trio with their respective spouses if she didn't think they'd work. Second, I'd like to say that Sirius didn't push Molly out of the way from Harry in the first chapter because he didn't like her or anything — he doesn't know her! It's just he barely paid attention to anything or anyone at that moment because he wanted nothing more than to help Harry. I've seen a lot of stories bashing her and wanted to let people know that this isn't one of them. **

**Anyway, on with the chapter!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

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**Chapter 2**

Sirius was pacing in Dumbledore's office. He had fought Dumbledore tooth and nail, but the old man had insisted that he talk to Sirius before he said anything to Harry. Feeling generous, he had agreed to talk to the man. However, there was no way that Dumbledore would convince him that Harry didn't need to know about the prophecy.

He huffed angrily. The boy was fourteen and had seen and done things that most adults hadn't seen and done. The least he deserved was to know why he went through those things. Though Lily and James had never discussed when to tell Harry about the prophecy, he knew that if he had gone through everything he had and they were still alive, he would already know about it. He couldn't see why, after what had happened last night, Dumbledore didn't deem it necessary to tell Harry the truth.

Dumbledore walked into his office and sat down behind his desk before giving Sirius a stern look.

"You caused quite the uproar in the Hospital Wing, Sirius," he said, pressing the tips of his fingers together as he peered at him over his half-moon glasses.

Sirius looked at him and tried not to squirm. That was the look Dumbledore gave him and James whenever the two got into enough trouble to warrant a visit to the Headmaster's office. But then Harry's confused face swam into his vision, and he squared his shoulders and looked at Dumbledore unapologetically.

"Harry has the right to know, and you can't have any reasonable excuse to not tell him," said Sirius. "He is not a child, and he lost the rest of his innocence last night after watching that Diggory boy die."

Dumbledore sighed and slumped in his seat. Sirius couldn't ever remember a time when Dumbledore had looked so old and tired.

"He does not need that burden on him, Sirius," said Dumbledore wearily. "He has already been through so much, and I cannot bring myself to harm him further."

"You're harming him already!" exclaimed Sirius angrily.

At this Dumbledore straightened and glared at him. "I beg your pardon?"

"Knowledge is power, Albus!" cried Sirius, a note of desperation creeping into his voice. "Voldemort is after Harry, whether you or I or anyone else likes it. I cannot and will not allow Harry to face him unprepared. With a body, Voldemort will stop at nothing to get to Harry, and there is nothing you can say to stop me from helping him survive. And he won't survive unless he knows the truth."

"Sirius, please calm down," said Dumbledore imploringly. "Do you really want to burden him further with this information?"

"Of course, I don't _want_ to!" said Sirius, looking at Dumbledore as though he had lost his mind. "I want him to be a normal fourteen-year-old! I want to receive letters from you or McGonagall about his detentions and the things he's done to deserve them. I want him to write to me about the adventures — the _normal,_ simple adventures — that he and his friends had and how they got away with them. I want him to write to me about his Quidditch games, about girl problems, about anything and everything that is going on in his life.

"But we can't do that, not really. I'm a fugitive and he has a target on his head. And so my job is to protect him. Maybe there will be a time when I can do all of those things with Harry. But right now, I need to help him, prepare him. And lying to him isn't the way to do it."

Dumbledore looked at him sadly, and Sirius himself felt sorrow when he had admitted all of these things. Sirius wanted nothing more than a normal life with Harry, and a childish part of him wanted to be able to simply listen to and agree with Dumbledore, just as he had when he was a student. But another part of him, the part that wanted to protect Harry, knew that he was doing the right thing in arguing with Dumbledore over this.

Sirius sighed and flopped down onto a chair across from Dumbledore's desk, putting his head in his hands miserably.

"There is nothing that you can say or do to stop me from telling Harry about the prophecy," said Sirius quietly. "James and Lily told me the contents of it, and I have not forgotten those words. I can never forget those words. You're either with me on this, Dumbledore, or I have reached a parting of ways with you the same way Fudge has."

* * *

Harry and Ron stared at Hermione in awe, and she blushed at the looks they gave her. Dumbledore and Sirius had left the Hospital Wing a while ago, and Hermione had explained to them what she discovered about Rita Skeeter.

"It was actually you, Harry, who gave me the idea," she explained as she showed them the jar where she kept her. "You mentioned bugging, and then I remembered Viktor pulling that water beetle out of my hair. So I checked the Animagus Registry and saw she wasn't there. It's the only thing that makes sense."

"You're brilliant," said Ron and Harry together.

"Hermione, dear," began Mrs. Weasley, but Harry could see her lips twitching, "do you really think this is a good idea?"

"Oh, I'll let her out in London...after a little deal," said Hermione, smiling rather like the Cheshire Cat.

Harry chuckled.

"Actually, there was something I was hoping you'd agree to, Harry," she said, but Harry could hear the nervous note in her voice. "I've been thinking about it since Fudge refused to listen to Dumbledore."

Harry frowned. "He's being an idiot."

"Yes, he is," said Hermione matter-of-factly. "And he's putting people into danger. But the thing is, he hasn't gone to _The Prophet_ yet…"

Harry's stomach filled with dread. "I know you, Hermione. You want me to tell my story, don't you?"

"It could save a lot of lives," she said quietly. "And I think people should know the truth about what happened to Cedric."

Harry sighed and avoided her eyes. "I don't know if I can tell my story again, Hermione," he whispered. "Living it, telling Dumbledore even with Sirius's support…it was torture. I just don't know."

She nodded and smiled understandingly at him. "Just think about it. We'll all leave for the summer soon, and who knows what Fudge will do."

He nodded and looked at the beetle form of Rita Skeeter. She was trying to climb up the sides of the jar to escape, and Harry had to admit that he enjoyed watching her struggle. After the hell he had put him and others through during the year, there was a kind of poetic justice to her being stuck in a jar, unable to hear what was going on.

"What do you reckon Sirius meant?" asked Ron abruptly. Harry and Hermione looked at him. "About a prophecy, I mean."

"I don't know," said Harry, sighing. "Sirius and I were talking this morning. My potion wore off, and I didn't really want to go back to sleep. So we just talked. I mentioned that I wished I knew why Voldemort was after me, and he looked surprised that I didn't know about the prophecy, whatever it is. And then Dumbledore interrupted."

Hermione scoffed. "I doubt there is a prophecy," she said.

"Hermione, just because Trelawney is a fraud doesn't mean that there haven't been other Seers," argued Ron.

"And do you really think that Sirius would lie to me about my past?" asked Harry, raising an eyebrow at her. "After all, it's technically his past too."

She blushed. "You're right, I'm sorry. It's just hard to believe, that's all. Prophecies are wooly business, you should know that after last year."

Harry nodded, though reluctantly.

"Well, if Professor Dumbledore doesn't want you to know, Harry dear, then perhaps you shouldn't," said Mrs. Weasley gently. "I don't doubt he simply wants to protect you."

Harry shrugged at this. "I'd rather know the truth, Mrs. Weasley. After last night, there isn't really anything someone could say or do that would surprise me," he said.

"You put too much on yourself, Harry," she said kindly. "You're still young; enjoy it while it lasts."

Harry simply shrugged again.

She sighed and stood. "I have to go. Get some rest, Harry, and listen to Black. The boy's death really wasn't your fault," she said, giving him a hug. She gave Ron and Hermione a hug as well and waved in farewell.

They sat in silence for a while after she left. He knew she only wanted what was best for him, but he knew himself better than Mrs. Weasley knew him. Maybe the truth was horrible, but it was a lot better than wondering and not knowing anything.

At this thought, he looked at Hermione. "I'll do it," he said firmly. Determination filled his veins and spread through his body like fire. "I'll tell the world what happened last night, before Fudge can make up some story about a raving lunatic disguising himself at Hogwarts and _pretending_ that he was acting on Voldemort's orders."

Hermione beamed at him. "I think Rita here would be a good story teller, with a few restrictions, of course."

They smirked as she moved to let her out of the jar.

When she transformed, they Disarmed her before she could get her bearings and pointed their wands her, preventing her from leaving.

"How _dare_ you?" she shrieked angrily. Harry rather thought she sounded like a banshee.

"Now, now, Rita, be nice," said Hermione sweetly. "You wouldn't want to find yourself in that jar again, would you? And besides, I know you're unregistered. You don't really have a bargaining chip here."

She glared at the three of them, but they were unmoved.

"What do you want?" she snapped, crossing her arms and tapping her foot.

"For you to tell last night's story," said Harry simply. She blinked at them, but then her eyes glittered at the possibility. Harry raised his hand as she opened her mouth. "Not so fast. You're going to write the truth, Rita, exactly as I tell it. You will not spin tales, you will not make up quotes."

"The readers —"

"— are curious about last night's winner," said Hermione fiercely. "I doubt Fudge has gone to _The Prophet_ yet. Here's your chance at giving everyone an exclusive interview with the most popular champion. We want to see the article before you take it to _The Prophet, _and if you change it after we approve, I'll go straight to the Ministry. I'm sure an inside scoop of Azkaban would be well received." Rita paled. "Furthermore, you will write a note to the readers saying that your previous articles about Harry's 'funny turns' were untrue. You heard the rumor from one of Harry's classmates, and it turned out that said classmate was no friend of Harry's."

"But they are true! I witnessed it!" she cried angrily.

"You don't know what you witnessed!" snapped Harry. "And don't you dare presume to know it simply because you watched me collapse. And don't forget, you witnessed it illegally, and I have no qualms in exposing you."

"And the Parseltongue?" she asked, now curious.

"I'll explain that," said Harry, rolling his eyes. "As long as you write the truth and nothing more, I'll explain. Besides, the truth is so incredible that I doubt you'd want to make things up anyway."

Rita's eyes glittered again. "We have a deal. Let's begin then."

* * *

Sirius trotted alongside Dumbledore as they headed back to the Hospital Wing. People were coming down for breakfast, and a few students pointed at him as he passed them. He leapt at group of young girls playfully, and they squealed when he licked their hands and barked happily.

Dumbledore stopped and turned to him, amusement in his eyes. "Snuffles, do come along," he said. He chuckled as Sirius barked again and followed him.

They soon entered the Hospital Wing, and he was surprised to see Harry talking to Rita Skeeter. Ron and Hermione were on either side of him, eyeing her as if they knew something, and Molly had disappeared. He figured she went home. Curiosity filled him as he approached Harry and placed his muzzle on his thigh.

"It's okay," he said quietly as he patted his head. "I know what I'm doing."

Sirius nuzzled his hand and lay down at Harry's feet. With horror and pride, he realized Harry was telling her what had happened the night before. He whined a little and leapt onto the bed, laying across Hermione's legs and nuzzling her hands. Harry was telling Dumbledore what was going on, and Sirius saw him nod and pull up a chair.

"It's okay, Snuffles," she whispered so only he could hear. "I've got something on her so that she will only write the truth…unless she wants to give her readers a view of Azkaban through her eyes."

Sirius stilled, trying not to laugh at the explanation. Blackmail? It didn't seem like Hermione's style, but her eyes twinkled with triumph as she watched Skeeter.

"But how did that happen?" asked Skeeter excitedly. "How could your wands connect like that?"

Sirius sat up and barked a few times. Harry couldn't tell her that. It would give Voldemort information that he certainly, in Sirius's opinion, didn't need.

Harry turned to him with raised eyebrows. "Calm down, Snuffles, I'll take you outside in a bit."

He barked a few more times for effect, but he grinned inwardly as Harry told Skeeter that he wished he knew how it had happened. Ten minutes later, Harry finished telling his story and Rita stared at him in silence, eyes wide and slightly pale.

She cleared her throat. "And why should our readers believe you, Harry?" she asked.

"Because, Ms. Skeeter, it is the truth," said Harry quietly. But there was something in his voice, something strong and determined, that showed that though Harry was only fourteen, he was beyond his years. "Cedric was a friend. I didn't know him well, but I was getting to know him, and his life was snuffed out simply because he was at the wrong place at the wrong time. I would not dishonor him by lying about his death.

"And I wouldn't lie about Voldemort's return. Why would I? Ms. Skeeter, I am famous for something I have no recollection of. All I remember from that night is my father telling my mother to take me and run. All I remember is my mother's pleas to Voldemort, begging him to kill her instead of me. All I remember is his cruel, cold laugh and a flash of green light.

"I am famous simply because Voldemort was able to kill my parents and he wasn't able to kill me. I ask you, I ask everyone who ever looked at me like I was some sort of hero: Who wants to be famous for that? Don't you think that I'd rather it never happened? Don't you think I would have preferred to grow up knowing my parents?"

Sirius jumped off the bed and settled at Harry's feet again. He wanted more than anything to be able to transform and to comfort Harry, but there was no way he could do it in front of Rita Skeeter. She would have a field day. Harry bent down and began to pet him, sadness in his eyes. Skeeter was silent, but after a while, she cleared her throat.

"You are right. This is better than any story that I can make up," she said awkwardly. Then she grinned rather maliciously, Sirius thought. "Tell me, do you mind if I report Fudge's reaction when you told him the truth? The public has the right to know how their leader is reacting, or not reacting, to news of this importance."

"As long as you tell the truth, I don't care," said Harry, shrugging carelessly. "Don't overdramatize it either. I don't need enemies at the Ministry."

"Excellent, I shall get to work," she said, eyes glittering again.

"You can do so here," said Dumbledore graciously. "I'm sure Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger can keep an eye on you. Harry, however, will follow me. I wish to speak to him."

"Am I in trouble, sir?" he asked, getting up.

"Not at all, my dear boy," said Dumbledore, smiling sadly. "Rather, there is something I wish to explain to you that I should have explained long ago."

"Don't even think about it, Rita," snapped Hermione, glaring at her when the woman opened her mouth to ask. "You've gotten more out of Harry than any reporter ever will; you'll be satisfied and grateful with what you have."

She glared at Hermione while Harry chuckled under his breath. Sirius grinned inwardly again as Skeeter returned to her work. He nudged Harry a little, who then followed Dumbledore to Madame Pomfrey's office.

Sirius sincerely hoped that he was doing the right thing.

* * *

**A/N: That's it for now. I know you guys wanted to hear the prophecy, but one thing at a time. It will come next chapter, I promise. **

**I really wanted to explore what would happen if the Ministry was questioned earlier and people knew the truth. I've read a lot of stories, but I don't think I ever came across one where Harry tells his side before fifth year. I think it can create an interesting dynamic in the Wizarding world. But you let me know. Until next time.**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Thanks for the lovely reviews, you guys! And thanks to those who have followed and favorite the story! :)**

**One note, I think that spectators somehow got to see into the maze. It would be really boring to just look at a bunch of bushes, regardless of what the movie showed. And if it didn't…well, in my story they saw what happened in the maze.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.**

* * *

**Chapter 3**

Harry followed Dumbledore to his office, trying not to fidget. Sirius nudged his hand as they walked, and Harry sent him a tight smile. There were few people in the halls, but every one of them were staring at him and whispering. Some even pointed. He avoided their gazes and simply looked at Dumbledore's back as he led the way.

"_He came back with Diggory's dead body…"_

"_What do you think happened when they disappeared…?"_

"_You don't reckon Potter did anything to him, do you?"_

"_Don't be ridiculous…he couldn't have…could he?"_

Harry stopped at this and glared at the boy who assumed he killed Cedric.

"You honestly think I would kill Cedric?" snapped Harry, still glaring.

"I…I…that is to say —" the boy stammered, flushing slightly. Harry noticed that he was a Hufflepuff, no older than a second year.

Harry sighed. "I didn't do anything to him. And you'll know what happened in a day or two."

The boy's eyes widened. "We will?" he asked, incredulous.

Harry nodded and continued to follow Dumbledore, shaking slightly. Is that what people thought? That he killed Cedric?

Before he knew it, Dumbledore was giving the gargoyle guarding his office the password and soon he was sitting in a chair across from Dumbledore's desk with Sirius to the left of him. He was no longer surrounded by the whispers, but he couldn't push them out of his mind. _You don't reckon Potter did anything to him, do you? _

Might as well have, thought Harry.

He looked around the office, more because he didn't want to meet Sirius's and Dumbledore's gazes than curiosity; he'd been here enough to know what the office looked like. The silver instruments still whizzed and puffed smoke, and the portraits of old headmasters and headmistresses still pretended to sleep in their frames. The only thing missing was Fawkes.

"Fawkes is delivering messages for me," said Dumbledore, following Harry's gaze. "I do apologize for the whispers in the corridors on our way here. I haven't gotten a chance to speak to the school yet."

Harry shrugged. "Hardly your fault, sir," he replied, still avoiding his eyes.

"Harry," began Sirius, concerned, "don't think about what that boy said. You didn't kill Cedric."

Harry sighed. "You said as much last night," he replied quietly, his throat tightening. Harry swallowed loudly.

Sirius turned Harry's head toward him. "And I'll keep saying it until you believe it."

Harry nodded, smiling tightly. Telling his story to Rita Skeeter hadn't been easy, and the whispers and glares hadn't helped either. And now he was in Dumbledore's office, probably about to learn something about his past, and Harry felt like he was going to explode. It was all too much for one person to handle at once, but at the same time, he burned with curiosity. He had wondered why Voldemort had gone after him for three years, and it seemed like now he was going to get an answer.

"You said you wanted to tell me something, sir?" asked Harry, looking up at Dumbledore.

"It is more that Sirius wishes to tell you, and I cannot convince him otherwise," he replied, looking weary. "Please know, Harry, that I am simply trying to protect you from the burden you will bear with this information. It is not that I do not trust you or that I do not think you equal to the information. Quite the contrary; you've proven yourself ten times over in your time at Hogwarts. Rather, I wish to spare you the pain of it.

"However, Sirius believes that you deserve the truth now rather than later. He believes that the knowledge you will gain in this can only protect you. I do not disagree with him. He has made his point well, and I can see I have erred in keeping the information from you."

Dumbledore intertwined his fingers and sat quietly staring at Harry with an unreadable expression, allowing Harry to gather his thoughts. Harry's mind was racing. Was it really that bad? He knew he was still processing everything from last night; could he handle knowing more? Especially if the story was so heavy?

He turned to Sirius. "How bad is it?" he asked, looking at him almost desperately.

Sirius winced. "I won't lie to you, it is pretty bad," he said, looking at Harry with a sorrow that he had never seen. "But I do think you have the right to know the truth. I think that while knowing could be a burden, it can also be an asset. It can prepare you for when Voldemort will come after you the next, because you and I both know there will be a next time."

Harry nodded. "And this information…it's why he came after me in the first place?"

Sirius nodded.

"Then just tell me," said Harry firmly, finally sitting up straight. "I'd rather know the truth, no matter what it is, than be in the dark."

Dumbledore nodded. "Very well. It is quite a long story, so bear with me."

Harry nodded, now curious more than worried.

"Fourteen years ago, I went to the Hog's Head to meet an applicant for the Divination position. While I wasn't too willing to continue the class, I thought it common courtesy to meet with her, as she was the great-granddaughter of a celebrated Seer." Harry's eyes widened slightly, realizing who Dumbledore meant. "However, after interviewing her, I saw she possessed none of her ancestor's gift, so I turned to leave after telling her I did not think she was right for the post. Before I did, however, her demeanor changed." Harry sat up straighter. _Her first prediction._ "I am, of course, speaking of Professor Trelawney. You remember, last year, witnessing her second prophecy?" Harry nodded. "I witnessed her first. At the time, a Death Eater was listening at the door, but he was discovered by the barman and thrown out of the pub. However, he hastened to tell his master the part he did hear."

"Voldemort came after me because of half a prophecy?" Harry gasped.

Dumbledore nodded. He stood up and went to a cupboard, pulling out the Pensieve Harry had accidentally went into earlier in the year. He shook it and a figure rose out of it, draped in shawls, her eyes enlarged like an insect under a magnifying glass behind her glasses, and she turned slowly. Trelawney spoke, but it was not in her usual eerie, mystic voice, but in the harsh, hoarse tones Harry had heard her use the year before, just after his Divination final:

"_THE ONE WITH THE POWER TO VANQUISH THE DARK LORD APPROACHES…BORN TO THOSE WHO HAVE THRICE DEFIED HIM, BORN AS THE SEVENTH MONTH DIES…AND THE DARK LORD WILL MARK HIM AS HIS EQUAL, BUT HE WILL HAVE POWER THE DARK LORD KNOWS NOT…AND EITHER MUST DIE AT THE HAND OF THE OTHER FOR NEITHER CAN LIVE WHILE THE OTHER SURVIVES…THE ONE WITH THE POWER TO VANQUISH THE DARK LORD WILL BE BORN AS THE SEVENTH MONTH DIES…"_

Harry was numb. He continued to look at the Pensive, even though the silver figure of Trelawney had already disappeared.

"Harry?" said Sirius gently. "Are you okay?"

Harry shook himself slightly.

"I…I don't know," said Harry. "What did that even mean?"

Sirius sighed. "It meant that a boy born at the end of July to parents who had escaped Voldemort three times would have the power to defeat Voldemort. That is the part the Death Eater overheard."

"And the rest?" asked Harry, as though in a daze.

"Well, the marking as his equal…that just means Voldemort singled you out as the one with the power to destroy him. The Longbottoms fulfilled the requirements as well," explained Sirius lightly. "But when Voldemort chose you, it became clear that you were the child of the prophecy and not Neville. You were chosen, thus you are his equal."

"But that's mad!" said Harry frantically. "I'm not his equal; I'm _lucky_ to be alive! And I haven't got any powers that he hasn't got!"

"Yes, you do," interrupted Dumbledore. "You have the ability to love, and while that doesn't seem like much to you, it actually means everything."

"What?" said Harry, confused. "How can love possibly help me defeat him?"

"Love has already saved you," explained Dumbledore gently. "Your mother died to save you, therefore instilling in you a protection that even Voldemort does not understand."

"But he has that protection now," said Harry desperately. "He used my blood to come back; he can touch me. He _did_ touch me. It didn't hurt him like it did first year."

"That is true, he can touch you," said Dumbledore, almost sadly, Harry thought. "But I doubt it will help him in any other way. He took your blood in greed because he believed that your mother sacrificed herself to activate a spell on you and that it would help him too. But your mother was not thinking of spells and magic and the like when Voldemort came after you. She was thinking about _you,_ because she loved you.

"Intent matters in magic, and Voldemort does not understand the extent of the protection your mother gave, nor will he ever. Voldemort does not value love, and that which he does not value, he does not take the trouble to comprehend. He does not understand that there are things in this world beyond his own power, and that is his weakness.

"You may think that you survived because you were lucky, and I have no doubt that Voldemort thinks so as well. But you have survived because you have the power to love. Love saved you when you were a baby. Love saved you when you were eleven. Love helps you produce your Patronus. It is your inability to see those you care about in pain or in danger that gives you your strength, Harry."

"But what about the last bit in the end?" asked Harry. "Does it mean that one of us will end up killing the other?"

"Yes," said Dumbledore quietly, "but only because he gave you the tools to do it. He killed your father, instilling in you a desperate desire for revenge. He forced your mother to die for you, giving you a protection that though he has, he does not understand and will never truly benefit from. He killed Cedric simply because he was in the way. Voldemort himself picked his worst enemy, just as tyrants everywhere tend to do.

"Many who go through terrible ordeals such as yours tend to follow Voldemort's path. It would be no surprise if you, who have suffered greatly, followed the same path," he finished, staring intently at him.

"What? He killed my parents!" exclaimed Harry angrily. "I would never go down his path!"

"Exactly! You don't focus on your suffering, but on those you care about! You are protected, in short, by your ability to love."

"But I still have to finish him," said Harry, unable to say the word 'kill', disgusted by the very idea.

"No, my dear boy, you _want_ to finish him," said Dumbledore gently. "Voldemort will live by the prophecy because he fears that you can bring his death about, and if he fears anything at all, it is dying. You, on the other hand, can turn your back on the prophecy."

"So he'll hunt me down either way. In the end, one of us will have to finish the other," said Harry, finally understanding. "But he'll do it because he's scared of me; I'll do it because I'm not."

Sirius smiled at him proudly. It was the difference between being dragged into an arena to fight to the death and walking in with your head held high. Some people didn't think it didn't make any difference, but Harry knew — Sirius knew and his parents knew — that it made all the difference in the world.

"So what happens now?" asked Harry, looking between Dumbledore and Sirius.

"Now, you rest," said Sirius, smiling at him. "Now you go spend time with your friends, and recover, and have fun. You've got time to think about the prophecy. For now, just enjoy the last few days of term."

"You're leaving, then?" asked Harry, a little sadly.

Sirius turned his head to Dumbledore, and Harry sent him a pleading look. Dumbledore sighed in defeat.

"You may stay for one more day," said Dumbledore. Then his expression became serious. "But be careful, Sirius. I would suggest that you spend your time near Hagrid's Hut. He knows that you're innocent, and he will keep your secret. You can pretend that you're a stray that Hagrid found, and that you have taken a shining to Harry and his friends."

Harry smiled brilliantly at Dumbledore. "Thank you, sir," he said emphatically.

He nodded, eyes twinkling again. "It is almost lunch time, and I must go speak to the school. If you wish, you may go to the kitchens and get some lunch to take by the lake. No doubt you wish to avoid everyone's questions."

Harry nodded. "Can you tell them to leave me alone? Tell them that they'll know the story in a few days"

Dumbledore nodded. "I'll refrain from mentioning you gave an interview — which, by the way, was very brave of you," he said, beaming down at him.

"Yeah, Fudge will probably want to kill me when he reads it," muttered Harry, shaking his head.

Sirius snickered. "He won't do anything if he knows what's good for him," he replied, grinning. "Besides, after Rita is through with him, he'll probably be too busy fighting the public's outrage at his indifference to your story."

Harry couldn't help but grin at the image.

* * *

Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat under a beech tree next to the lake, and Sirius lounged at Harry's feet in his dog form. It had been a few hours since lunch, but none of them had the inclination of going back inside. Harry had told Ron and Hermione about the prophecy (after a bit of prodding from Sirius), and though both were concerned, they managed to keep a brave face through it all.

The Diggorys had found him an hour ago, and he told them how Cedric had died, assuring them it had been quick and painless (he hoped it _was_ painless). The told him they did not blame him, and when he tried to give them the winnings, and then half the winnings, they adamantly refused. Amos Diggory had even apologized to him for his behavior before the task, but Harry shook his head before he finished.

"Don't worry about it, Mr. Diggory," he had said. "It doesn't matter."

Rita had sent her article to them half an hour ago, and they were reviewing it. Sirius had started shaking from laughter when they read Rita's description of Fudge.

"_Our esteemed Minister," _read Hermione, _"does not believe Mr. Potter's story. And after being given an ample amount of evidence from the Headmaster and other professors, Mr. Fudge declared they were being ridiculous and were making up tall tales. _

"_Professor Dumbledore even gave the Minister suggestions about how he can start planning a defense against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. However, Mr. Fudge felt the ideas were radical and would endanger his term as Minister, and he believed the public would turn against him for taking action. It seems that Mr. Fudge cares more for his office than he does for the public's safety, which seems ridiculous. I believe he would only gain support if he began to take steps to protect us all from You-Know-Who._

"_He continued to rave how Mr. Potter was making up tall tales to gain attention, but after listening to Mr. Potter talk about his ordeal, one wonders how Mr. Fudge can brush the events of the Third Task aside. Indeed, I asked Mr. Potter why we should believe him and his response leaves me in no doubt of his honesty._

"_Because, __Ms. Skeeter, it is the truth," said Mr. Potter. "Cedric was a friend. I didn't know him well, but I was getting to know him, and his life was snuffed out simply because he was at the wrong place at the wrong time. I would not dishonor him by lying about his death._

"_And I wouldn't lie about Voldemort's return. Why would I? Ms. Skeeter, I am famous for something I have no recollection of. All I remember from that night is my father telling my mother to take me and run. All I remember is my mother's pleas to Voldemort, begging him to kill her instead of me. All I remember is his cruel, cold laugh and a flash of green light._

"_(Mr. Potter later explained to me that he remembered these details after coming in contact with the Dementors that were stationed at the school the previous year)._

"_I am famous simply because Voldemort was able to kill my parents and he wasn't able to kill me," he continued. "I ask you, I ask everyone who ever looked at me like I was some sort of hero: Who wants to be famous for that? Don't you think that I'd rather it never happened? Don't you think I would have preferred to grow up knowing my parents?"_

"_Mr. Potter has a point, and it is hard for me to believe that the Minister would not only dishonor Cedric Diggory's life by dismissing the manner of his death, but also disregard the ordeal that Harry Potter experienced at the hands of the most evil Dark Wizard since Gridelwald._

"_I implore the public to support Mr. Potter, for it seems our own government will not."_

Ron was laughing loudly. "Oh, that's brilliant. She's absolutely horrible, but it's nice when she's on your side, isn't it?"

Harry sniggered. "This time tomorrow, Fudge is going to want to kill me," said Harry mildly. He found he was slightly amused at the prospect.

"Well after this, I doubt he'll have the time," said Hermione primly.

Sirius barked in agreement.

"Though, I'm still a bit concerned," she said nervously. "Fudge probably has friends at _The Prophet_ as well. He might want to release articles of his own, and he might build on Rita's old articles."

"True, he could," said Harry thoughtfully. "But with Rita saying that her last article was false, there won't be that many that believe him. And he can't very well say that Dumbledore explained about my scar last night, because that'll put him an even worse light. It'll remind people that he ignored everything that we told him except for the bit that makes me sound mad."

"That'll go well for Fudge," said Ron sarcastically.

"Well, she's made you quite the victim, Harry," said Hermione, smirking. "Except more of a victim of the Ministry instead of You-Know-Who."

"Oh, this is going to be fun," he said, smiling dreamily. He couldn't wait for tomorrow.

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**A/N: That's it for now. Bit of a filler, but it needed to be added. Any recognizable lines come from HBP and belong to JKR.**

**Review!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Hey everyone! I'm really sorry for the long delay! First my new apartment didn't have Internet connection, and then school got in the way. But I promise to be better about updating from now on; thanks to anyone still following this story!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but original plot.**

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**Chapter 4**

When Harry walked into the Great Hall the next day, an immediate hush fell over the students. He looked down and quickly walked over to the Gryffindor table, sitting down between Ron and Hermione. Ignoring everyone else, he grabbed some breakfast and focused on his plate until everyone stopped staring and went back to their conversations.

"Is Sirius gone?" asked Hermione.

He nodded. "Yeah, he left using Dumbledore's Floo ten minutes ago," he replied, trying not to let the disappointment seep through his voice.

"I'm sure you'll see him soon," said Hermione gently, giving him an understanding smile. "I don't think he's too keen on you returning to the Dursleys anytime soon."

"That doesn't mean Dumbledore isn't keen on it," he said bitterly. "As long as Sirius is on the run, he doesn't have any legal right to take me from them."

"Maybe not," said Ron, swallowing thickly. "But he got Dumbledore to let him stay with you and tell you about…well, you know. Maybe he'll convince him to get you out of Privet Drive early."

"Maybe," he said, shrugging noncommittally. He saw Ron and Hermione exchange worried looks, so he quickly changed the subject. "Did the _Prophet_ come yet?"

"Not yet," said Ron, going back to his eggs. "But it should soon enough."

At Ron's word, the Great Hall filled with owls, and Harry stilled as an owl landed in front of Hermione. He saw himself and Cedric in the middle of the Quidditch pitch surrounded by teachers and put his fork down, suddenly no longer hungry. Hermione unrolled the paper, and reread the article, and when she was done, she nodded at them, indicating that Rita had used their edits and the article was what it should have been.

Harry glanced around. The room had gone silent again, and he saw that almost everyone was either reading the paper or was looking over friends' shoulders to read the article. Harry stood up and rushed out of the hall. He'd finish his breakfast outside. He ignored Ron and Hermione when they called after him, but he knew they'd follow eventually.

Five minutes later, he sat under a beech tree by the lake, and not long after he sat down, Ron and Hermione joined him.

"From what I heard, people believe you. The Minister won't be able to live this down," said Hermione abruptly. "Just be careful. You might get mail from people you don't know like I did earlier this year."

Harry nodded. They spent the rest of the day relaxing under by the lake. Fred, George, and Ginny joined them later, and after the twins transfigured a rock into a large hard surface, they played a few games of Exploding Snap. Harry got a letter from Sirius saying that he was safe and that he would work to get him away from the Dursleys as fast as he could. Harry couldn't help but smile at that.

* * *

Two weeks later, Harry found himself lounging in the sitting room of number 4. He had been trying to watch the news since he had gotten back, but no funny disappearances or deaths were reported. It seemed Voldemort was lying low.

In the mean time, the public was outraged with Fudge after Rita's article; however, he remained adamant that Harry had lost his mind. The _Daily Prophet_ was having a field day with Fudge's antics, and if the situation weren't so serious, Harry would have laughed. A week after Fudge's denial, the public starting yelling for his resignation, which Harry adamantly supported.

But while he was stuck in Privet Drive, he continued to debate whether or not to tell the Dursleys about Voldemort's return. He still had Rita's article, and he figured it would be easier to give them that and answer questions rather than try to explain what happened. While there was no love lost between himself and the Dursleys, he still didn't want them to get hurt. He would never like them, and they would never like him, but that didn't mean they deserved to die or be tortured because a lunatic was after him.

Dumbledore had explained before he left Hogwarts that while he called Privet Drive home, Voldemort couldn't touch him there. The charm protecting the place would only wear off when he turned seventeen or if he renounced Privet Drive as his home. But did that mean he shouldn't tell the Dursleys? Did it make him no better than Fudge by keeping this a secret?

_CRASH!_

Harry jumped up and ran into the kitchen as Aunt Petunia screamed. When he ran through the door, he couldn't help but chuckle when he saw Uncle Vernon swiping his newspaper at an owl that was flying around the kitchen. It dropped its letter at Harry's feet and swooped out the window.

"Boy, I will not have those damned birds flying in and out of my house!" raged Uncle Vernon, face red and spit flying from his mouth.

Harry raised an eyebrow at him. "I can't stop them from coming, you know," he replied lightly. "My friends' owls know to come to my window, so this clearly isn't from my friends."

"Well then, who's it from?" snapped Aunt Petunia.

Harry didn't answer her and opened the letter.

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_It is come to my attention that you are adamant about sticking to your story, and as such, I believe it is necessary for us to meet and discuss these developments. I will be at your place of residence at 1 o'clock, Sunday, July 9._

_Sincerely,_

_Cornelius Oswald Fudge_

_Minister of Magic_

Harry paled. "Give me a piece of paper and a pen," he said quickly. They didn't move. "Now! This is urgent!"

Aunt Petunia gave him what he wanted and he split the paper into two pieces. He addressed one to Sirius and the other to Dumbledore, and he wrote the same message on both.

_I just got a letter from the Minister, saying that he wants to meet with me on Sunday at 1 o'clock to "discuss" my story. What do I do and what does he really want?_

_Best, _

_Harry Potter_

"Hedwig!" he called urgently. His owl surged into the kitchen a few moments later and he rushed over to her. "Take these to Dumbledore and Sirius, but go to Dumbledore first. It's really important, so fly as fast you can. They_ need_ to get these by Sunday morning."

She hooted and nipped his finger, before quickly flying out the window.

"Boy —!" started Uncle Vernon, but Harry cut him off.

"The Minister of Magic is coming here on Sunday at one," said Harry, throwing the letter at his uncle.

He rushed out of the room, only to come back in a few minutes later with his interview in hand. Dudley had entered the kitchen, probably sensing that Harry was about to get in a world of trouble.

"I should probably tell you about what happened this year," said Harry, pacing.

"Boy, I don't care about what you learn in that freak school of yours!" growled Uncle Vernon. "If the Minister is coming here, that means you're probably in trouble, and if he takes you off our hands, so much the better!"

Harry shook his head. "You don't understand," said Harry, still lost in thought. What did the Minister want with him? "I didn't have a normal year. No one did." He stopped pacing and looked at Aunt Petunia. If anyone would understand the implications, she would. "Voldemort's back."

Her eyes widened and she immediately paled. "Back?" she whispered.

Harry nodded. "Two weeks ago. He killed one of my classmates, Cedric, and nearly killed me. I escaped at the last minute," he said, raising his voice as he saw Uncle Vernon was about to interrupt.

"Here," he said, giving her the paper. "Our _esteemed_ Minister didn't want to believe the truth, so I gave an interview. The world needed to know what was going on. A majority of the Wizarding world is on my side and they believe me, and the public is against Fudge, so now he's trying to clean up the mess he's made."

Not one of the moved, and he sighed. He sat down at the table. "Read it. You need to know because it'll probably affect you eventually. Voldemort can't touch you while I call this place home, but that ends when I turn seventeen."

He was rambling and he knew it. But he couldn't think clearly with thoughts of the Minister's visit still circulating in his head. Surely the Minister didn't think that Harry would go back on his interview? After the scene in the hospital wing, he should know better. But then, what did he want?

"What are you rambling about, boy?" snapped Uncle Vernon impatiently.

He sighed. "When Voldemort killed my parents, he forced my mother to die for me," he explained. "He gave her the chance to run, but she laid down her life in hopes of saving me. Clearly, it worked. By dying for me, she placed a charm on me, one that lives in me until this day; it's in my blood. And since you and I share blood, Aunt Petunia, that charm can be extended to this house."

He looked at her now. "Dumbledore used Mum's sacrifice to place protective wards on this place. While I call this place home, Voldemort can't touch me here. He can't touch you or anyone else in this house. He can't even enter the street. The charm can only be ended one of two ways: I either renounce this place as my home, or I turn seventeen. In my world, we reach the age of majority at seventeen, because that is our final year at school.

"Once the charm is broke, all of us are vulnerable. But until then, you are safe, even while I'm at school. I only need to come back here for part of the summer for the charm to renew. But when the charm ends, it will affect you, so you need to read that article. You need to know what happened two weeks ago."

And so the three of them read. When they were finished, they looked at him wide-eyed.

"What's the Triwizard Tournament?" asked Dudley bluntly.

"A tournament between the top three European Wizarding schools. It was cancelled ages ago because of the high death rates, but they brought it back last year. They placed new rules to go with it, like needing to be of age to compete, and they put up a bunch of precautions. Clearly, it didn't work," added Harry bitterly.

"Then why did you compete?" asked Aunt Petunia.

"Because Barty Crouch Jr. entered my name on Voldemort's orders," he said without emotion.

"Why?" asked his uncle. Harry could tell he was still angry, but slowly calming down.

"To kill me," he said bluntly. "I would've thought that was obvious from the article."

"Yes, but why?" he snapped. "You're barely fifteen. You're not that important, boy."

"To get revenge," said Harry slowly. "He couldn't kill me as baby, and now he won't stop trying."

The continued to stare at him, now pale.

"How did he use your blood?" asked Dudley.

"In a potion," said Harry. "That's in the article too."

"But why?" asked Aunt Petunia.

"Because he wants Mum's protection," said Harry, sighing. "Before, he couldn't touch me, and I mean that literally. First year, he tried to strangle me, and his hands started to blister from just touching my skin." Their eyes grew wide again. "He has the protection now, and he can touch me, but he still can't get onto Privet Drive. The sacrifice was meant for me, and so it can't help him completely. He doesn't know that yet, but I'm sure he'll find out eventually. Voldemort's a lunatic, but he's still smart."

"And he'll keep coming after you until you're dead?" said Uncle Vernon, glaring suddenly.

"Or until I beat him, yeah," he said.

"Well, you can get out of this house, boy!" yelled Uncle Vernon, standing up suddenly.

The three of them jumped.

"What?" said Harry blankly.

"You heard me! Get out!" he raged. "I've had it! Owls using this place as a rest stop, the exploding pudding, the flying car, and now you're telling me a lunatic is after you? No, that's the last straw. You won't endanger my wife or my son. OUT!"

"Weren't you listening? You'll be in even more danger if I leave!" yelled Harry. "He can't touch you for two more years, but if I leave now, the charm is broken and you're done for. He'll torture you and kill you like he did my parents! You don't know what it is to be tortured, but once it happens, I assure you, you won't forget it."

"Vernon, sit down," snapped Aunt Petunia. They looked at her in shock. "The boy will stay. We'll figure out what to do in two years."

"You'll probably be protected," said Harry, relaxing. "Voldemort uses people to get to others. It's how he wins his fights. Dumbledore wouldn't let Muggles get in the middle of a war you have no business being a part of."

"War?" exclaimed Dudley.

Harry nodded. "My world is at war again: Voldemort and his Death Eaters — what his supporters call themselves — and Dumbledore's side. Mum and Dad fought in it, until they had to go into hiding. So did my godfather, and tons of others."

"And now your Minister is coming here," said Uncle Vernon.

Harry nodded. "I don't know for what, that's why I wrote to Dumbledore and Sirius. Whatever you do, don't mention Sirius to the Minister. I don't need Sirius getting caught by the Ministry. You mention him, and I'll leave. Voldemort can do what he wants with you; I won't come to save you," he warned, seeing the glint in his uncle's eyes. "You won't be able to win against him. He's cruel and evil, and he makes Muggle serial killers look like gentle animals."

Harry was bluffing, but they didn't need to know that. He watched as the three of them paled.

"And that's the thanks we get for the last fourteen years?" snapped Uncle Vernon.

"You treated me like rubbish and you know it," Harry replied calmly. "I don't want you tortured or killed on my behalf, but I have no family loyalty to you. That lies with Sirius. You take away the last bit of family I have left, Uncle Vernon, and I'll take away yours from you."

With that, Harry stood up and went back to his room.

* * *

The next few days were tense in the Dursley household, so he spent most of his time outside. By Saturday, he had received responses from both Dumbledore and Sirius, telling him not to worry and that Dumbledore would be there to make sure Fudge behaved.

Hedwig was exhausted from her journey and not too happy with him, so he let her do what she liked. After a few hours of sleep, however, she seemed to have forgiven him.

By the time Sunday rolled around, Harry was nervous. Once again, his uncle was dressed in his best suit, clearly trying to impress the Minister, but Harry knew that wouldn't matter. Aunt Petunia had scrubbed the house clean, including Harry's bedroom, and Harry was relieved that she hadn't found the loose floorboard under his bed. Dudley became more and more nervous as one o'clock drew nearer and eventually went to sit by his father, hoping that he'd be able to shield him from any attacks that came toward him. He refused to open his mouth or stand up point blank, and as nervous as Harry was, he couldn't help but be amused by it all.

The doorbell rang at half past noon, and he prayed to Merlin that it was Dumbledore. However, his hopes were dashed when he opened the door. On the doorstep stood Fudge with his usual bowler hat and a shot, plump witch wearing a fuzzy pink cardigan. He noted she looked a bit like a toad, and when she smiled widely at him, he immediately disliked her.

"Good afternoon, Minister," said Harrys stiffly, allowing them to pass through the door. "You're early, I see."

"Yes, well," he said, slightly flustered. "I finished my work early."

Harry refrained from snorting; he probably wanted to get away from being bombarded with Howlers yelling for his resignation.

Harry nodded instead. "The kitchen is this way. Would you like some tea?"

They nodded, and after he served them, they sat down and stared at each other. His relatives soon joined them, and after introductions were made, they sat in silence.

"Not to be rude, but may I ask who you are?" said Harry, looking at the pink witch.

She introduced herself with a high-pitched voice as Dolores Umbridge; Harry's dislike for her grew.

"I was under the impression that the Minister was coming by himself, Madam, so you'll excuse me for my surprise," said Harry lightly, but his eyes were cold. There was something about her that seemed wrong.

They both blustered at his words, and Harry inwardly smirked. "So," he continued, "what did you want to discuss, Minister?"

"Well, Harry, these stories simply cannot continue," said the Minister, and Harry could tell he was working to remain as jovial as he had been in previous years.

"I don't know what stories you're referring to, sir," said Harry calmly.

"The story about You-Know-Who's return," said Umbridge with a saccharine smile.

"I didn't realize that Cedric's death and my ordeal was a story," said Harry. "Because I am sure it happened, meaning it's not a story but a fact."

"Really, Mr. Potter, there's no reason to keep telling lies," said Umbridge. Harry officially hated her.

"Tell me, Madam Umbridge, why would I tell such a lie? A lie that would put the entire Wizarding world in danger?" said Harry, trying to remain calm.

Just then the doorbell rang. Harry sighed with relief and went to answer it.

"Ah, Harry," said Dumbledore as Harry let him in. "How are you, dear boy?"

"Frustrated. Fudge is here, sir, and brought a woman named Dolores Umbridge with him," said Harry, annoyance seeping through his voice.

"I should have known they would arrive early," said Dumbledore, sighing. "And I suppose it is good that I convinced Padfoot to stay behind."

"He's safe, then?" asked Harry, worried.

"Perfectly so. I will be taking you to him and the Weasleys after we are finished here," said Dumbledore, smiling at Harry's grin.

"Brilliant! Thank you, sir!" exclaimed Harry, and with that, he lead Dumbledore to the kitchen, ignoring the man's chuckles behind him.

"We have another guest," he said, as he entered the kitchen. "Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon, Dudley, this is Professor Dumbledore. He's my Headmaster."

"Pleasure," said Dumbledore, nodding kindly at them. His eyes dimmed as he turned to the other two at the table. "Cornelius, Dolores. I am surprised to see you here."

"I could say the same about you, Dumbledore!" blustered Fudge, and Harry simply sat back to enjoy the show after he gave Dumbledore his tea. "You have no business here!"

"Thank you, Harry," he said. "And I am here to escort Harry to the Weasleys for the rest of the summer."

"Molly and Arthur could not come to get him themselves?" spat Fudge.

"I'm afraid not," said Dumbledore lightly. "Bill and Charlie are both home for the summer, and they are helping the two settle in. Besides, as Harry is my pupil and his relatives cannot drive all the way to Ottery St. Catchpole, I've decided to escort him myself."

"And you would do the same for all of your students?" said Fudge, smiling smugly at him.

"Of course, I would. They only need ask," said Dumbledore, raising his eyebrow. "In fact, I escorted Miss Granger to the Weasleys earlier this week. Her parents are Muggles as well, you see."

Fudge sat back glaring a Dumbledore, not knowing how to respond.

"Now is there anything you wanted from Harry? I really must get him to the Weasleys. Molly is expecting him, you see," continued Dumbledore as if nothing had happened.

"I want _both_ of you to stop spreading lies!" yelled Fudge. "He is _not_ back! He can't be!"

"Why not?" said Harry coldly.

"Because — because — he just can't! You can't come back from the dead!" spluttered Fudge.

"He never died," said Harry quietly. "He lost his power. Voldemort wasn't human enough to die. He said so himself; he said he went to great lengths to ensure his immortality."

"And what lengths were those?" snapped Fudge.

"That is something I am researching, Cornelius, and I will happily tell you when I find the answer," said Dumbledore. "But keep in mind, Voldemort used to be Tom Riddle. I taught him, and I know him. I assure you he would do anything to ensure he could not die."

Harry sighed before Fudge could respond. "I just don't understand why you won't believe me, Minister. Why in Merlin's name would I make this up?"

"To get attention, of course," said Umbridge abruptly.

Harry laughed. "Are you mad? I get enough attention as it is! I can't walk down the street without someone staring at my scar! Maybe some people like that kind of attention, but I'm not one of them. Besides, I'm a rather decent Quidditch player. If I wanted attention, I could get it that way, and at least that way it would be on my terms.

"Look, Minister, you can still save your career. But raging around trying to make the so-called Boy Who Lived look like a liar isn't the way to do it," said Harry. "I'm not sure why you came here, sir. I think you knew I wouldn't go back on my word, and I'm sure you knew I have support. So what is it that you really want?"

Harry stared him down. Fudge grew flustered, and turned to Dumbledore, only to be met with the same stare. Fudge sighed.

"Your support, Harry," he finally said. Harry's jaw dropped open. "I want your support to help me save my place in office. You have the kind of support from the public a minister can only dream of, so I want you to stand behind me."

* * *

**A/N: So what do you think? Fudge has a lot of nerve doesn't he? Tell me what you thought about Harry telling the Dursleys. Too much, too little?**

**Next chapter: Harry's response and leaving Privet Drive.**


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